Wake Up, Quinn
by cydonic
Summary: In the end, it was always a matter of when - not if - Quinn did what Rachel asked her to. Post On My Way AU.


"Wake up, Quinn."

And all she could think of was the sound of metal shrieking around her as it was pushed in – the strange, ringing silence of it all afterward, when the tires had stopped squealing and everything stopped moving. Quinn awoke, as she was instructed to do, with a start. Her body jumped forward, instinctively trying to avoid the truck that chased her in her sleep; the impending crash.

Rachel's arms, not the seatbelt or the airbag, saved her this time. "Oh my God, Quinn, I'm so glad you're okay." Rachel's face was buried in Quinn's neck before Quinn even had a chance to wake up, to process. Now instead of the cacophony of screeches and screams, it was Rachel sobbing into her neck, thanking whatever Gods she believed in (and many Quinn knew she didn't) that Quinn was okay. There was no longer warm blood caressing her cheek, but warm tears following the curve of her neck.

The pain was there, but not at the fore as it had been hours – days? Weeks? – ago. Now all Quinn could focus on was Rachel's lips against her neck and ensuring her breathing continued.

She was certain she was dreaming, until she fell asleep again.

–––

It took some time to put things into perspective. The doctor came and explained everything and then went, and there was almost always a nurse around when Quinn woke up. These were all things she adapted to quickly and easily – being in hospital. It wasn't hard work, and after she'd woken up the second time to the true realisation that _yes_, she had crashed, and _yes_, it had been bad, things had been okay.

Maybe it was because Quinn was simply used to the worst case scenario. Bullied and kicked out of home and pregnant – she'd lived the lives no one had wanted to, yet had triumphed and made everyone _think_ they wanted to be her. Even as the Glee clubbers came to give her well-wishes, Quinn made them envy her – a comfortable bed, constant service, and no school. It was what she did. She made the bad look good.

The hardest thing Quinn had to adapt to was how Rachel was present in her room.

Since confessing to Brittany and Santana that summer that _maybe_ she thought Rachel was cute when she got petulant about a solo, and that she could damn well _earn_ said solo, and that her fashion sense was not so much terrible as terribly endearing, well… things had been different between them.

In a good way, really.

In a _kinda friends_ way.

Or it had been like that, until the accident.

After that, Rachel had been perpetually at her bedside. Quinn couldn't tell if she was skipping school to maintain her vigil (her sleeping pattern was completely out of line, and there weren't any clocks in the room for her to judge by) or she just so happened to wake up only when Rachel was out of class.

It was nice, though, having Rachel there.

After the initial wake up, parts of which Quinn only vaguely remembered after the fact, it had been less crying and hugging and more conversation. More than once, Quinn had awoken to find Rachel humming or singing quietly, legs drawn up beneath her body, working on something in her notebook. As soon as it was clear Quinn was awake, Rachel would forget that it existed entirely and her attention would be all Quinn's. Sometimes Quinn liked to see how long she could be awake for before Rachel noticed her, but she adored the attention – that fact she could not deny.

So they spoke about lots of things.

They spoke of what Quinn was missing at school, and what she was missing in Glee, and Rachel even went so far as to update her on the Cheerios though if what the doctor said was true Quinn wouldn't be rejoining them ever again. Still, it was nice.

Everything was nice.

Everything in the hospital was good. Maybe Quinn had thought of this as a worst case scenario at first, but it really wasn't so bad. It proved to her that Rachel actually wanted to be around her, and she would gladly give up time at home, or with her other friends, to spend it with Quinn. Initially Quinn had thought this sudden, constant company a side-effect of guilt, and Rachel's process of eliminating it. But as time went on – as Quinn got better – it became clear that Rachel was just there for her. Not because she felt bad, but because she cared.

Or maybe that was simply wishful thinking.

But as Rachel held her hand to settle her into the wheelchair, Quinn was certain it was more than her imagination this time.

–––

Rachel pushed Quinn back into school that fateful first day.

Eyes were glued to her as if they had never seen a girl in a wheelchair before. Maybe half of them hadn't – Artie really didn't fit the female bill, did he? Quinn was sure it was less the fact that it was a wheelchair, and more that it was _Quinn Fabray_ seated inside it – and maybe just a little shock over Rachel.

But Rachel walked behind her, going over what Quinn had missed in greater detail. There were posters up for a football game coming up that weekend – Rachel was happy to take Quinn, and had already spoken to someone about getting appropriate disability access for Quinn (Artie had been fine when he wanted to play, but manoeuvring a wheelchair into the grandstands?). Quinn gave a half-hearted shrug. She didn't really want to go to the game – and see all her fellow Cheerio's working the crowd when their own football team was a ridiculous mess. Cheerio's she'd never cheer beside again.

_People_ she would never _walk_ beside again.

Every time Rachel noticed her mood lower she would start speaking louder, more excitedly, trying to get Quinn to cheer up, but it didn't work. Everywhere she looked people were _walking_. It was such a simple thing – so ordinary, so human, so… natural. And she couldn't do it. Not right now, and maybe not ever again.

Rachel wheeled a miserable Quinn into Calculus and whispered apologies as she ran to her next class.

–––

Nothing worked at cheering Quinn up except Rachel. Brittany tried – and tried her heart out, making Quinn cards and conning Lord Tubbington into making a _'get well soon'_ video for her. Santana didn't tease her as much as she typically did, and pushed a girl into a locker for making an offhand remark of, "_cripple"_ when she thought no one could hear. Everyone in Glee sung inspirational songs about overcoming adversity (just your typical fare in a club of misfits), pushing and dancing around her wheelchair and trying to make her involved.

As time went on, Quinn just got more and more down.

It hit the point where even Rachel couldn't cheer her up; playing with her hair as they waited in line at the cafeteria or eating with her at a wheelchair friendly table. Quinn was just – sad.

Senior Ditch Day didn't make her feel any better. For so long she had been struggling to keep up with her friends, weak arms pushing her as fast as they could so she could meet Brittany and Santana's brisk pace, and now they'd be going off to enjoy themselves without her.

A theme park, or something. Quinn hadn't listened as they all planned it in Glee one day, eyes looking through the walls of the room and out into a world where she was still normal, could still walk, and people still cared.

Finn pulled Rachel against his body, and Quinn felt her eyes snap back to the present – only to narrow into slits.

The only good to come from this accident was that Rachel was talking to her and spending time with her, but Finn always took precedence. Finn held her tight in his huge, grubby, man hands.

Quinn's heart still lightened with hope when Rachel smiled at her, dwarfed beneath Finn's enormous body.

–––

Physical therapy did nothing to help, either. All Quinn got to do was lie there thrice-weekly and be reminded of just how useless her body was to her now.

Every day she went there, it was an event plagued with loneliness. Usually Rachel escorted Quinn home, and that really was the highlight of her day now. On days Quinn had to go to therapy, Rachel ended up going home with Finn, and it really just served as a reminder to Quinn: no matter what, she'd never have Rachel. Not completely.

Quinn would sit in the waiting room and not make eye contact with the pretty receptionist behind the counter who was usually texting on her phone where she thought it couldn't be seen. On her first visit she'd looked through the magazines on the table, but finding they were all fashion magazines – everything from _Seventeen _to _Vogue_ – Quinn had given up on that.

She sat and she stared at the wall until they called her name.

Then she went through into the room and made small talk with her therapist about how she was doing. Every time Quinn answered, _"fine,"_ the lady would smile and reply, _"it's so good you're not letting this get you down,"_ and Quinn would give her a smile that had less feeling in it than her legs did.

–––

It took two months for Quinn to decide one thing: there was nothing worth waking up for any more.

Quinn may as well just drop out, and resign herself to a life of always being asked if she was okay, being spoken to slowly, being offered the utmost care though people clearly only did so to alleviate any social guilt they may feel.

Senior Ditch Day. Everyone would be getting ready to go and enjoy their day.

Quinn stared blankly at the ceiling (foreign to her – she'd moved into the spare room downstairs after the accident), picking out the place where the plaster was starting to crack with age and poor construction. The tiny lines made spider web criss-crosses above her head, and Quinn wanted to touch them and see what they felt like – but she couldn't, she remembered belatedly. Before she could have stood up on the bed and stretched and brushed them with her hands. Now she had to drag herself out of bed and into the wheelchair, she couldn't bear to face that.

She rolled over and closed her eyes, wishing sleep would claim her again – and if it was a more permanent sleep, she wouldn't complain. This was just another mark on her already ruined record, and if she continued the way she was going she'd be dead soon enough anyway.

Her phone rang on the nightstand to her left. It rang and rang, and Quinn didn't roll over to answer it. She couldn't be bothered. It was just too much effort – existing was too hard.

The ringing stopped, and then started again only seconds later.

Heaving a sigh, Quinn rolled over. She took her time, hoping it would ring out before she got to it and she could claim she just wasn't fast enough.

Despite how her hand all but crawled toward the phone, it continued ringing, and at last she picked it up to check the caller ID.

Rachel.

She told herself not to get excited – told her heart not to speed up as she answered – but it was too much. "Rachel?"

"Quinn? Did I wake you up?" Rachel asked, and Quinn could feel her smile down the line.

At that moment, Quinn yawned. "No – I mean, I'm in bed, but you didn't wake me. What's up? Is everything okay?" Why would Rachel call her today? Today was her day to skip school and have a great time with _all_ of her friends.

Without Quinn.

"No – everything is fine. Good, actually. Did you want to come outside?"

No. No I don't. I want to stay in my bed forever. "I – sure. It'll just take me a while." Quinn said, apology heavy in her voice.

"Take your time. I'll wait for you." Rachel said, and then she hung up the phone.

Quinn placed the phone back on her nightstand and turned back to face the wheelchair by her bed. It hadn't taken Quinn long to get used to dragging herself from her bed, as opposed to getting out and going for a Sue Sylvester mandated jog every morning.

With growing strength in her arms, Quinn pushed her body up and forced her legs to dangle off the edge of the bed. She leaned forward and gripped the arm of the wheelchair, pulling it close enough so that she could manoeuvre into her new (permanent) form of transport.

The room didn't feel like hers, and Quinn wheeled out of it quickly – still clad in pyjamas. She wasn't looking to impress anyone any more. Her Cheerio's outfit still hung on the outside of her wardrobe, but it would never be hers again. As with the prom dress, tucked away in a dress bag and doomed to spend eternity on the plastic hanger.

Quinn opened up her front door, her mother already left for work or church or something Quinn hardly cared about, wheeling onto the porch. The steps had been altered for her benefit, and a piece of plywood was attached over the stairs so she could get down onto the path.

Though she turned her head left and right, Quinn didn't spot Rachel until she had wheeled herself out onto the driveway.

Rachel was wearing a bright smile on her lips to contend with the bright balloons bobbling around by her head. Hung over her linked arms was the wicker handle to a picnic basket, the lids ajar and something unidentified struggling to push its way out.

Quinn stopped pushing her wheels, and felt herself slowly roll to a stop. Her mouth opened and she just stared at Rachel, whose smile rapidly changed from proud to sheepish. "Do you like them?" She asked, pointing upwards at the collection of helium-filled animals above her head.

There was nothing Quinn could do but laugh. "Rachel – what are you… what are you doing?" She asked, expression softening from unimpressed to joyous.

"I didn't even think when we were talking about today, that you… that you wouldn't be able to come." Rachel said, crossing the double driveway to stand before Quinn, picnic basket held in front of her body like a shield. "It's not fair. This is your senior year too. I didn't know really what we could do, but I got us some food and I thought we could just hang out somewhere." And then Rachel shrugged one shoulder in the most casual way, as if she hadn't just brightened Quinn's day by ignoring her friends and boyfriend in favour of keeping her company.

"Should I go get dressed, then?" Quinn asked, biting her lip to try and stop her grin, but it came out anyway – like the sun revealed from behind clouds, wide with perfect white teeth.

Rachel smiled and nodded her head rapidly up and down. "Did you need a hand?" She inquired – probably without thinking – and Quinn saw the exact moment when she realised. The blush was painful to watch as it caressed Rachel's cheeks the way Quinn wished she could, reddening them as she fumbled over words to make up for it – "that wasn't what I meant, exactly, I mean… well, you know what I mean." Rachel gave up in the end, staring down at the basket in her hands rather than Quinn.

"I'll be out in a minute, Rachel." she said, turning herself around in an arc greater than anyone skilled in turning a wheelchair would take. Slowly Quinn wheeled herself back up to the porch, before turning around to face Rachel again. "I'll let you know if you can help me." She called back, returning indoors triumphant when Rachel coloured further.

–––

When Quinn got back outside – now wearing a summer dress and a pair of sandals in her lap – Rachel had calmed herself down and was bobbing the balloons in turn above her head.

"Rachel." Quinn said, able to control her speed much better this time now that there was no more than residual shock left behind. Rachel snapped her head up, the balloons flying up at once before their strings pulled them back. "Could you help me with these?" She said, holding out her shoes.

"Sure!" Rachel chirped, placing the basket on the ground and rushing forward to help Quinn.

As she crouched down the balloons bounced off one another, an inflatable giraffe striking Quinn in the face. Quinn let out a tiny squeal, reaching one hand to bat away the balloons invading her personal space.

"Hold your feet still!" Rachel commanded; soft hands firm on her ankle.

Quinn froze solid. "Hold – ?" She had been attempting to repeat what Rachel had said to her, confusion in her voice, but then she realised:

She could feel Rachel's hands on her legs.

And – her foot had just – "Oh my God!" Rachel screamed, and Quinn might have complained if it wasn't Rachel doing it, Rachel who screamed like she was on Broadway – perfectly tuned for dramatic effect.

The look in her eyes was distinctly _not_ practiced – her mouth was open wide, eyes glossy with welling tears. "Quinn – you – I – you can _feel it_." She clasped her hands before her body in excitement, as if restraining herself from tackling Quinn in joy.

Rachel could have done whatever she wanted to, though, and Quinn wouldn't have cared. Her vision blurred with tears, and soon enough she was buried in Rachel's chest, arms clinging to her for life.

It wasn't even a very pretty sight – Quinn was sobbing openly into Rachel's shoulder because she had felt it, she'd _felt it_, she could feel the dig of the too-tight sandal strap around her ankle but that didn't matter now because she could _feel it_.

They stood in embrace for long enough that people must have stopped and wondered what was going on, as a ring of balloon animals chased each other around their heads in the wind.

–––

When they had at last separated, and once they had found their voices again, the pair of them decided on a park within walking distance from Quinn's place. Rachel hovered protectively by Quinn's wheelchair, looking as if she had so much to say but she didn't want to burden Quinn.

Quinn still didn't have words.

Only that morning she had been contemplating a day spent in bed, lamenting how much fun Rachel would be out having with everyone she loved whilst Quinn sulked alone, and now here she was.

The park was small, and currently deserted. Rachel placed her picnic basket on Quinn's lap when they reached grass and took up post behind the wheelchair, pushing Quinn over the rough terrain until she was satisfied with their spot.

Out of the basket Rachel first retrieved a picnic blanket, which she opened up and shook out onto the ground. Next she took the basket and placed it on one corner of the blanket, opening it up and placing two plates on the blanket and laying out the food she'd prepared. Finally she returned to Quinn and unlooped the balloons from her wrists, dividing them up and tying half on each of Quinn's hands.

"Are you sure I won't fly away?" Quinn asked jokingly, waving her hands and watching the creatures bump together above her.

Rachel smiled – well, she hadn't really _stopped_ smiling all morning – and held Quinn's hands in hers. "I'm – I'm just so glad I was able to be there for when… you know. If there's anything I'm going to remember for the rest of my life, it's not going to be some stupid theme park we went to, but it's going to be spending today with you." She leaned down and kissed the top of Quinn's head, leaving the blonde sitting there blinking wildly and trying to catch up with what had just happened.

Rachel was already dishing up fruit salads and vegan pancakes and describing in great detail the recipe she'd used, all whilst Quinn was the one now struggling with a blush.

–––

They ate their meals – and who knew vegan food could taste so _good_? – in silence, hunger overtaking the need to talk. Perhaps uncertainty played a role in that, as Quinn didn't know what to say to break that peace anyway.

It wasn't uncomfortable, though. It was nice – being with Rachel was nice. Quinn couldn't put into words how it felt, but she didn't have that urge, that _need_ to ruin the quiet with words that meant nothing.

Rachel, normally so talkative herself, must have felt the same way. Once they'd eaten she cleared up quietly, packing the basket away except for the blanket.

She came to stand in front of Quinn, and Rachel's hands found their way around her wrists. "You told me once – you told all of us, in fact – that you can't change your past." Her fingers toyed with the strings holding the balloons around her wrists. "But you can let go and start your future." Slowly, steadily, Rachel undid one balloon at a time and placed them in Quinn's hands.

There were four balloons: the elephant was Lucy, floating away into the sky; the kitten her pregnancy, cast off into the horizon; the giraffe, the car accident, let free as if it didn't matter anymore; and the last was a zebra – for every time she had been cast out because of a difference, because she hadn't done what was right, because she'd been _human_ and made _mistakes_ – gone.

Rachel walked her home, and her heart felt the lightest it ever had.

–––

The next time Quinn went into her physical therapy, it was with Rachel stuck to her side. Rachel picked up a copy of _Seventeen_, several months out of date, and picked out all the cute fashion styles she liked. Quinn wasn't even mad to look at the girls who strutted on the pages because soon, maybe, that would be Quinn again.

When Quinn's therapist called her in, Rachel pushed her, and Quinn concentrated on wriggling her toes. This time Quinn's assurance that she was good came with an actual, honest smile – and then Rachel was talking animatedly about her feet moving.

Instead of the leg appearing in her vision, seemingly due to a force beyond her control, it was now Rachel gently coaxing feeling back into her legs. Quinn could feel the pressure there – and as sessions continued on, it changed from just the sensation of pressure to the actual feeling of touch, of four fingers and a thumb, of soft fingers with distinct pads.

Quinn's spirits lifted high like the balloons, and then further into the sky.

–––

Quinn already had Yale – she'd had Yale since before the accident, and until Rachel that had been the only thing she'd lived for. Her golden ticket out of Lima.

Now it was Rachel's turn to show them what she could do, and Quinn had no doubt in her mind that NYADA reps would be falling over themselves to get her into their college.

Quinn rolled backstage just before Kurt was due to go out on stage and do his performance. Though physical therapy was going well, Quinn didn't want to place undue stress on her legs before they were ready. She walked around the house where she could, but school was still far too demanding a task for her to even consider right now.

Quinn found Rachel fretting by a mirror, pulling at her hair and grasping wildly for the hairspray on the counter. "Rachel?" Quinn asked, startling her enough that she dropped the container with a _thud_ on the wooden floor.

"Are you – you're not going to go and sit out there?" Rachel asked, the most nervous that Quinn had ever seen her in her entire life. Rachel was looking around frantically, ensuring everything was where it should be, and fussing over the hem of her dress. "Everyone else is getting ready. And she'll be here soon, you shouldn't be here – I mean, if you want to –"

"Rachel, stop." Quinn said, reaching up and gently placing her hands on Rachel's shoulders, the brunette leaning forwards to make the height difference between them less obvious. "You're going to do perfectly. Don't worry – just breathe. Don't Rain on My Parade is _your_ song." One of her hands drifted upwards, guided by something beyond Quinn's thinking, settling on Rachel's warm cheek.

Rachel leaned into the touch, closing her eyes and releasing a steadying breath. "I don't know if I can…" She answered feebly.

"You can, Rachel. You can. If anyone can do it, it's you." Quinn said, thumb brushing back and forth against Rachel's soft skin, feeling her relish the gentle touch.

Again, Rachel took the time to breathe before replying. "Are you going to go out there, then?" She asked, at last opening her glistening eyes to look at Quinn.

Quinn smiled softly. "I'd prefer to watch you from here. I've seen you from the crowd before, but… this is more personal." She tipped her head to the side, trying to swallow in her now very dry mouth. "You're beautiful from the front, but watching you from here seems more…" _Intimate_ was what Quinn wanted to say, but that was – well, not entirely incorrect. That was what she felt. Intimate. Close. "Familiar."

Rachel laughed, and though Quinn was sure it was an expression of her worries rather than a sign of her happiness, she leaned forward to hug Quinn all the same. Her lips brushed against Quinn's own as they embraced, and Quinn had never felt more at home anywhere than she did in Rachel's arms. "Thank you, Quinn. Thank you."

And then she went out on stage and shone like the star she was whilst Quinn sat by and watched and wished for nothing more than to remain in that moment forever.

–––

Quinn had been dreading prom – being confined to a wheelchair on the one night she had sought to shine at for so long, it was more nightmare than dream – but now she had some hope. She could walk a little, and Quinn was adamant that she'd have that dance. Just one. That was all she needed.

And she would walk up and get her crown, even if it killed her.

Rachel came over before prom so that they could do their hair and makeup together – in tears.

Quinn opened the door in her chair, an excited greeting falling soundlessly from the tip of her tongue. "Rachel – what's happened?" She asked, opening her arms out for a hug. Rachel fell straight into it, burying her face in Quinn's neck for a good five minutes before she spoke.

"Finn and I broke up."

Quinn felt her heart simultaneously lift and fall – break and harden. "Oh, Rachel, I'm so sorry." Quinn said, brushing her hands up and down the tiny brunette's back, tracing her spine.

Rachel sniffled once, as if she was going to speak, and then started crying again. Quinn had to wait for another five minutes on her doorstep, holding onto Rachel like she would float away, before the other could even start to get the story out. "He said – it'd just be better for us. I got my NYADA letter, and he… he said he might just stay here and work with Burt, or… or… I don't know, but…"

Before a fresh round of tears could start, Quinn pulled Rachel into the house and led her to Quinn's room, holding Rachel's hand tight. "Listen – tonight you are going to have an amazing time. And you are going to look _stunning_, Rachel. Don't worry about Finn." She said, enough firmness in her voice and hold that Rachel sniffled but did not argue.

"I was just… thinking I might not go."

"No!" Quinn said, surprising the both of them with her volume. "No, Rachel, you have to go. I'll be your date, since Finn clearly doesn't know what he's giving up here."

Rachel looked down at the floor, clenching her free hand tight enough to turn her knuckles white. "It… it was for the best for both of us, it wasn't his fault, I just don't feel up to it…"

Quinn turned her head to the side and glanced at everything she'd prepared – her gown, tiara, makeup and hair stuff. She hadn't taken much care of her appearance since the accident, and she was determined to prove that she could still look every piece the flawless Quinn Fabray they all remembered.

And then she looked back to Rachel who was staring at Quinn's carpet as though she could sink into it if she tried hard enough. "We can have our own prom." Quinn said quietly, squeezing Rachel's hand.

"You've been looking forward to this for ages, Quinn – you go." Rachel said, waving her free hand back and forth in a very obvious _no_.

"What I want doesn't matter, Rachel. You're hurt. It would be rude of me to go and leave you like this." Quinn said, resolute in her decision. "Now sit down. I'm going to turn you into a prom queen."

–––

Though Rachel's eyes were still red and puffy, Quinn had made her look like a princess – one that had been crying profusely, but a princess nonetheless. She placed the last of the mascara on Rachel's lashes and wheeled herself back. Rachel's hair fell in bouncy curls around her shoulders, and her makeup was a cry back to classic Hollywood sirens. There was no mirror in this room except for a full length one opposite Quinn's bed, and she'd been keeping Rachel in the dark about her appearance so far.

"Go put that dress on." Quinn said as Rachel opened her eyes, blinking and adjusting to the heavy eye makeup. "Chop chop." She said, swatting at Rachel's shoulder.

Whilst Rachel changed, Quinn respectfully looked out the window. She could have put her own makeup on, and done her own hair, but she just didn't feel like it any more. This was Rachel's night now – Rachel's time to shine like the star Quinn knew she was.

"I'm done." Rachel said, and when Quinn looked at her, she felt her mouth fall open.

Rachel was stunning (though Quinn had always known this). The dress hugged every part of her body as if it were painted on, and fell in a sleek column down her legs. It brushed the carpet more than it would normally, as Rachel had foregone heels, but it didn't matter – not around here.

"Can I look?" Rachel asked, timidly mustering up a watery smile.

Quinn was silent a moment longer, before shaking her head. "One more thing. Close your eyes and bend down." She instructed, wheeling herself over to her own prom gear. She picked up the tiara and returned to Rachel's side.

Short as she was, Quinn still needed Rachel to bend down so she could fit the crown between her curls.

It suited her better than it would have ever suited Quinn – the silver stood out amongst Rachel's dark curls, and sparkled as it caught the light from Quinn's ceiling lamp. "Go look." She whispered, breathless now that Rachel was complete.

Quinn stayed where she was by the makeup assembled on the table, watching Rachel tentatively approach the mirror.

Once she saw it she stood there for a long, long moment, just looking herself up and down. "I don't even recognise myself." Rachel said, each word coming out slowly and carefully between her red lips. She turned back to Quinn, curls bobbing with the movement. "Quinn – I can't… thank you. Thank you so much."

Finally, that smile returned to Rachel's lips.

Quinn snapped a photo on her phone, much to Rachel's distaste (or feigned distaste – she smiled sheepishly and waved her hand, half-heartedly protesting the evidence of her look).

"I was wondering if I could have a dance, Prom Queen?" Quinn asked, holding out her hand to Rachel. She still wore just a loose maxi dress and no shoes, her hair tied up and out of the way and face bare of makeup.

Rachel giggled, just a little. "Only if I can dance with the King." She replied, gently taking Quinn's hand and pulling her to her feet.

With both arms draped over Rachel's shoulders, they managed to sway their way around the room. They danced to a song in their heads, twirling and dipping until Quinn's legs refused to stay up any more.

Rachel slowly returned her to the wheelchair, holding her hands so she could lower herself gently back down. "Rachel." Quinn said, catching her breath after performing more physical activity in five minutes than she had in five months. "I pity all those people at the prom right now, because they can't see how fantastic you look."

Rachel leaned down and kissed her cheek, smiling at the red lip marks she left there.

–––

Soon enough they gave up on the charade that they were at the prom. Rachel wheeled Quinn through to the living room and she lifted herself onto the couch. Rachel rummaged through Quinn's DVD cabinet – quite bothered by the lack of any romantic comedy or musical there to pass the night with.

"We have Grease." Quinn said from the couch, smiling with quiet amusement as Rachel made a messy stack of Christian movies her mother had collected over the years.

Rachel's head snapped up, as if summoned by the power of musicals. "What? Where?" She asked, gesturing at the huge pile she'd made at her side – the entire cabinet devoid of anything but dust and tangled cords now.

Quinn chuckled to herself, raising a hand to point at a spot beside the television. There, on top of the cabinet itself, sat the case to Grease. "Right in front of your eyes."

Rachel huffed and picked it up, glaring at Quinn over her shoulder. "You could have told me." She snapped, though it was all bark and no bite. Quinn simply laughed again as Rachel managed to wrangle the DVD player into working, sliding the disc into place.

When she returned to the couch, all past wrong-doings in her DVD search forgotten, Rachel snuggled right in beside Quinn. She still wore her prom dress, and her makeup was still in place, and Quinn couldn't help but occasionally stare at her face as it was illuminated by the movie.

Rachel sung every song as it came on, though Quinn had expected no less. Sometimes she was permitted to enter the song where Rachel couldn't viably sing every part, but for the most part it was the Rachel Berry show.

And that suited Quinn just fine. Anything to do with Rachel was a good thing in her books, and she soon found herself falling asleep against Rachel's shoulder as she sang along to _You're The One That I Want_.

"Wake up, Quinn." It was Rachel's voice, and Quinn blinked her eyes a couple of times, chasing the blinding white from her vision. When she was finally able to focus, Quinn realised Rachel had turned off the DVD (and put all the cases away), removed her makeup and gown, and had turned on all the lights in the room. "I think it's bed time." She said with a soft smile, offering her hand down to Quinn.

Bed seemed like an eternity away, considering she'd have to shift herself into the wheelchair and then out of it again in such a short amount of time. "Fine." Quinn huffed, not much of a morning (or being awoken from her sleep at any time) person.

Rachel, whose smile made it very easy to forget that only hours early she'd been crying on her doorstep, simply waited with her hand extended.

Quinn took it at last, pulling herself up and into the chair. "I'll probably take a bed upstairs." Rachel said conversationally as she stepped in behind Quinn's chair, wheeling her around and back towards the bedroom.

"I don't know if any of the beds up there are made, I haven't… had much of a chance to get up there. It's really only my room that's sleep-in-able right now." Quinn explained, at one point pausing to accommodate a yawn. It didn't even register in her mind that the only other bedroom in the house was now her own, and that she was essentially offering it to Rachel.

If Quinn had been able to see Rachel, she expected the brunette would have coloured as she did the morning of their Senior Ditch Day. "Well – if you don't mind me staying with you, I mean… that's fine." Rachel replied slowly, catching one of Quinn's wheels on the doorframe.

It was Quinn's turn to awkwardly backtrack. "No, it's not that – I can show you where all the linens are kept. It's just… easier if you wanted to stay down here. I have a pretty big bed." She offered, cursing the butterflies in her stomach that rose up and fluttered anxiously around. Not hours ago Quinn had danced with Rachel and been kissed by her, and the very thought of sharing a bed was making her nervous? When she had shared smaller beds with Brittany and Santana (and wasn't _that_ an experience) in the past?

She really was a hopeless case.

"No, it'll be fine." Rachel said, and the newfound confidence in her voice made Quinn smile. Maybe she wasn't so hopeless after all. Maybe – just maybe – she wasn't reading too far into things with Rachel.

Changing in and out of pyjamas was effort Quinn no longer went to unless she had class or an event on that day. Prior to the prom she had been hanging around in her lounge clothes, figuring there was no use getting dressed if all she was going to do was her hair and makeup before putting on her gown.

This meant that, as soon as Rachel got the wheelchair near the bed, Quinn was able to flop against her covers. "You'll have to climb over me." Quinn said, making the effort only to roll face-up and tug the blankets up over her body.

Rachel laughed and nudged Quinn's shoulder. "I'm going to go turn all the lights out and make sure everything is locked up. I'll stand on you when I get back." She said warningly, disappearing from the room seconds later.

Quinn tried to stay awake for Rachel's return – she really did – but the horrors of Sandy's high school love life had made her realise just how tired she was.

It must have only taken her minutes to fall asleep, but when Quinn woke up again everything was dark and an arm was draped across her stomach. For a moment, she panicked, and then everything came back – Rachel, prom, movies, bed.

Rachel's arm, then, was the one lying low on her stomach – Rachel's head the one against her shoulder, her breath caressing Quinn's throat.

Quinn wasn't so much a hope_less_ case as she was a hope_ful_ one now.

–––

Senior year was a whirlwind of everything happening too fast, and it didn't help that Quinn could only wheel herself around.

They were in Chicago for Nationals so soon after prom that Quinn barely had a chance to process that memory, to lock away the stunning Rachel Berry in her mind forever. Quinn had learned her moves, and though she still felt ashamed that she wasn't going to be able to do her best for their last performance in front of a crowd, she was a team player. She'd do this. She wouldn't ever have another chance, and wheelchair or not this was _Nationals_.

Before Quinn even had a chance to open her mouth, Mercedes was ill and unable to play her part and the girls were teaching her choreography. Her legs ached after two runs through the routine, but she soldiered on through it. As she walked and dipped and spun, Quinn just remembered her dance with Rachel – she'd managed that, and she'd do this just as well.

This was her chance.

And in front of those bright lights was where she belonged. As soon as she set foot on stage, she felt it. The music started and her body moved despite the aches and pains and her voice belted out the song as if her life depended on hitting every note.

She lost herself in all the numbers they did, pain put on hold so that she could wow the crowd that one last time as a _real_ member of New Directions, not the prop she had felt like for so long.

It was all unreal – the applause deafened Quinn when their names were called as the winners, and there was laughing and hugging and confetti and so much sensation that she couldn't do much more than smile and stare at Rachel.

–––

Back at school they received a greeting worthy of champions. The halls were lined with students and they all cheered just as loud for their Show Choir National Champions as they did when the Cheerio's brought a trophy home. Quinn was grinning so much her cheeks hurt, and people were all lifting her up and carrying her around and telling her how _proud _they were and it brought tears to her eyes.

"Quinn!" Rachel called out, waving her hands frantically in a _get here right now_ way.

Quinn twirled around, thanking the footballers who had raised her up on their shoulders to spare her legs the extra stress before approaching Rachel.

"We did it!" She cried, pulling Quinn against her side for when the photos were taken.

Both of their hands lay together on the trophy, fingers intertwined.

–––

"Wait there!" Rachel said, bounding through her door and leaping onto her bed.

Quinn's tired legs ached to join her, but she waited in the doorway, one hand holding the wall for support.

Rachel readjusted herself on the bed, sitting cross-legged and looking expectantly at Quinn. "Okay, come here! I want to watch you walk. I missed you dance earlier. I want to see you." And then she nodded her head – a _go_.

After all the excitement of the past few days, Quinn had really been missing the wheelchair. She wanted to be walking by the time she was at Yale, so she just had to work on gaining back all that lost muscle. If Rachel was so insistent on seeing her walk, maybe she'd be sprinting by the time she got to college.

Quinn walked to the bed as any normal person would – no limp, no visible stiffness (that she could tell). She was just – ordinary. Walking. Quinn had never expected that something so simple would make her so happy, but she was grinning by the time she reached Rachel's side.

And then she flopped down onto the bed, to Rachel's joyous laughter.

Quinn lay there a moment, letting her body enjoy finally lying still – after winning Nationals and all the celebration at the school, she'd had hardly any time to stop and just _be_.

Rachel wasn't going to let her have that time, either – her hands were on Quinn, pulling her up so that they were sitting together. Rachel's arms grabbed whatever they could reach, looping around under Quinn's arms and yanking her with all her strength. Quinn laughed, pushing away the hands as she crawled onto her knees. "Rachel, what are you doing?" Quinn asked, one hand darting forward to tickle at Rachel's ribs, intending to break her resolute grip that way.

Rachel shrieked with laughter, pushing back weakly at Quinn, just in play. "Trying to make you sit up – you're not falling asleep on me now."

Quinn smiled and shook her head, one hand reaching out of its own volition to cup Rachel's cheek. "I couldn't fall asleep on someone as wonderful as you." Quinn said, tone frank as if this was something so blindingly obvious Rachel was stupid to think otherwise.

And then Quinn leaned down and in, capturing Rachel's bottom lip in her own. For a moment it was just closed-lipped pressure, and then Rachel sighed – laughed – and her mouth was open. Quinn's other hand reached back to hold the back of Rachel's head as her lips began languid movements.

They kissed as if they had all the time in the world, and it took minutes for the kiss to move from lips sliding against one another to tongues gently lapping. They brushed against each other, each seeking to learn the taste of the other. Rachel leaned her head instinctively to the side and Quinn deepened the kiss, sucking Rachel's lip into her mouth and pulling on it with her teeth.

Rachel's hand found its way to Quinn's hip, sliding up and down until it found a comfortable place to rest. Quinn set the pace for the kiss, and Rachel was happy to follow that – except for the time she nipped playfully at Quinn's top lip, a silly grin breaking out on her beautiful face.

That's when they both stopped and actually considered what was happening.

Quinn – Quinn couldn't have been happier. But as she watched, all the joy drained from Rachel's face and realisation replaced it. "Quinn – I… what… what was _that_?" She asked, eyes widening in the most adorable way that Quinn had to physically prevent herself from pushing Rachel back down against the bed.

"That – that was because I love you, Rachel. And I want to know how you feel, because… because next week, we're going to be graduates and you'll be leaving me, and I –" Quinn said, mind racing ahead of her common sense before her body cut the speech off with a strangled sound.

Rachel's eyes were wide – terrified? – and she scooted back off the bed. "Quinn – I... it's not like I don't – I mean, I _do_ like you I just…" Rachel got to her feet, turning so her back faced Quinn. "I'm sorry. I – I can't."

She'd run into her tiny en suite by the time Quinn knew what was going on, and then she was left cold and lonely on the bed.

"Rachel?" Quinn asked tentatively, getting up and holding her dresser as she hovered by the bathroom door. "Did you – should I just leave?" Quinn hoped Rachel couldn't hear the pain in her voice, or the tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

"Sorry, Quinn. I… I really am."

Quinn forced herself to walk out of the room and down the stairs. She took solace in the ache in her legs as she made her way home across Lima, and when she collapsed in bed it brought no relief from the pain in her heart.

–––

They didn't speak until graduation, when they were getting ready to line up – decked out in their robes, caps proudly sat upon their heads. Then Rachel walked past her, _B_ headed past _F_ in the alphabetical order, and she paused.

There were no words for a long moment, and then Rachel stepped closer to her. Quinn stood on her own two feet – no wheelchair in sight – and if it weren't for her lack of communication with Rachel she would be on top of the world.

"I'm sorry." Rachel said, and then embraced Quinn – gentler than normal, perhaps because she no longer had the chair to support her if she fell.

Quinn sighed and fell into the hug, holding Rachel like that could make everything good between them again. "Me too." Quinn whispered in her ear.

As she withdrew, Rachel's lips scraped her cheek. "I'll be waiting for you." She said with a smile that left Quinn aching to grab her back and never let her go.

Today was more than just Rachel, though.

Today Quinn finally got out of Lima. She finally showed everyone she could – no pregnancy or identity scandal or truck could stop Quinn Fabray; Honorary Cheerio at graduation, the senior with the earliest acceptance letter to college, and top grades across all classes.

Quinn held the diploma in her hands and let herself be happy for _her_, happy for Quinn – not anyone else. Because Quinn had done it. _She had done it._

When she turned and looked up to the top row, where the _A _through _D_ stood, her eyes met Rachel's. The brunette gave her a thumbs up, mouthing _"congratulations,"_ and then they were tossing their caps up, up into the air, like the balloons, and it was all over.

–––

Quinn knew that today would break her. The day she took Rachel to the train station and saw her off to NYADA, her own cross-country trip to come a week later. This wouldn't just be a week without Rachel – it would be all of college. They may see each other on weekends or some evenings, but they would both be working and studying and trying to make ends meet. It would be the longest four years of Quinn's life, being so close and yet so far away from Rachel.

Because now Quinn knew where she stood – kind of. She knew that Rachel didn't hate her for what they had done, and that couldn't be a bad sign. Even if Rachel didn't want anything more than friendship, Quinn would take what she could get. Rachel had helped her through the hardest time of her life, and it wouldn't be fair to force Rachel into anything. Quinn just needed to keep her in her life – just so she could work on saying thank you, if that was even possible in her lifetime. Rachel had done so much, Quinn didn't know if she ever could pay her back for it.

Now everyone stood on the platform, taking turns to give Rachel their well-wishes and promises to see her soon. She laughed and cried and hugged all of them, sharing memories with each of the Glee clubbers she'd made such firm friends with over the years.

Quinn was the last of all.

Quinn stood on her own, near the back of the group, eyes on the dazzling woman she had fallen in love with. It wasn't a crush any more – it was real. And no matter what Rachel felt, Quinn knew that she would always love her. No matter what happened between them – Quinn would love her.

Finally the time came for Rachel to say her most personal farewells. Hiram and LeRoy went first, embracing their daughter and whispering things in her ears. Quinn's own eyes were watery as she saw the close-knit family saying goodbye, imagining how her own send-off might go. Her mother would be there, and she would hug her stiffly and wish her all the best. Maybe a few people from Glee would show up – Santana and Brittany certainly, but Quinn didn't have the number of friends Rachel had.

Before Quinn had too long a chance to think about what she would leave behind in Lima – who would care about her when she left – Rachel was standing in front of her.

Rachel was standing in front of her, with her hands up on Quinn's cheek, and tears in her perfect brown eyes. How long would it be before Quinn saw that perfect face again? Heard that incredible voice, and ran her hands through that hair? Witnessed that smile that made everything feel alright in the world?

Too long.

Any time without Rachel was too long.

"Rachel, I–" Quinn began, not sure what words would come next to express just how she felt, but she was cut short.

Rachel was on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to Quinn's. "Quinn… I've wanted to say something to you for so long." She said, hands drifting from Quinn's cheeks to her shoulders, sliding down her arms to tangle their fingers together. "Three words, and… I've just been too scared to say them." Her smile was watery but no less radiant, and Quinn's heart stopped in her chest.

This was it. This was perfection. This was everything Quinn had ever wanted, and the world around them disappeared into just Quinn and Rachel. There was no Glee club talking (some surprised, others knowing) about what they had just seen, no joyous exclamations from Rachel's parents, just the two of them. There was no train, and no time for it to leave. They could stand in this limbo forever, in this world where Quinn could focus on nothing else but Rachel.

Rachel's mouth opened, and Quinn panicked. She wanted her to stop because as soon as Rachel said it, she was leaving. She was getting on the train and going hours away from Quinn. But oh God, at the same time how she _needed_ to hear it. There was no mistaking what Rachel had meant – no mistaking the stolen kisses and nights spent holding one another, not now – but hearing it was all Quinn needed.

Knowing it would get her through the days without Rachel.

Squeezing Rachel's hand tight, Quinn stopped and she listened to the woman she _loved_ – loved, no doubt about it now – speak.

"Wake up, Quinn."

But that wasn't right. No – that wasn't what was meant to happen. Quinn felt her eyes widen, mouth open in a protest, a scream, a sharp breath, _something_ and then everything was blinding white.

It took too long for her to resurface, colours slowly filtering back into her vision. Her breathing was heavy and her heart pounded a solid rhythm in her ears, reminding her that she was alive – she was okay – but things weren't _right_. Rachel still stood before her, only she leaned over to meet Quinn's eyes, tears glistening in her own still. Had she passed out? Had something gone wrong?

The white around the edges was now the bland décor of a hospital room, and slowly the sound of a heart monitor to her left began to drown out the frantic beating of Quinn's heart.

Like sand escaping clasped fingers, everything began to disappear: the weeks of heartache and loneliness, of despair and hopelessness – and then Rachel like a shining beacon of light, hand on her ankle, balloons above their hand, backstage watching Rachel sing and on stage finally, _finally_ getting that trophy, dancing at prom and kissing in Rachel's bedroom and graduation and all of it, _all of it_, slipping away, away, _away_…

Rachel was talking but Quinn couldn't focus – her entire being was devoted on one memory, trying to keep it even as it began to fade and leave her. The last, most recent of them all: when Rachel's lips had formed a different three words, and despite what Quinn _heard_ she knew what she had seen.

_I love you_.

And then it was gone.

It was just Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry in a hospital room, tears in their eyes and an unfamiliar hope in their hearts.

–––

**author's notes: **a big thanks once again to my lovely beta, freakishsweetheart! hope you guys enjoyed this, and it wasn't _too_ confusing. just in case anyone cares, i do post on tumblr and ao3 under the penname cydonic, so if you find those websites easier to use (well, i don't post fic directly _to_ tumblr unless someone were to request it) then feel free to follow me there. :) and also feel free to chat to me on tumblr, i'd love to hear from all of you! anyway, have a lovely day! 3


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